Deliverance and Duty
by Power Cosmic 3
Summary: Varian was a grunt. He had no rights, no luxuries, no family. He was expendable, cannon fodder. A guardsman of the Imperium of Man. Out of billions of soldiers in the galaxy wide empire, he was the lowliest. But Galactus, the Devourer of Worlds, would decree that he would become something far beyond human…
1. Chapter 1

Varian was a grunt.

He had no rights, no luxuries, no family.

He was expendable, cannon fodder,

A guardsman of the Imperium of Man.

Out of billions of soldiers in the galaxy wide empire, he was the lowliest.

But fate would decree that he would become something far beyond human…

Varian cringed as mortars exploded around his trench. The loud reverberations hurt his ears, and for the umpteenth time, Varian cursed the planet Lorn IV.

Lorn IV's rocky, barren environment had the curious effect of amplifying every sound that was made. This was to the dismay of Varian as his sensitive ears throbbed from the sharp staccatos of lasfire and piercing sounds of mortar striking rock.

Adjusting his helmet, Varian laid low and hugged the trench floor. Sneaking a gander at his comrades, Varian witnessed the guardsmen around him returning fire at the opposing chaos cultists entrenched across the tundra battlefield. The laser fire looked quite like strobe lights Varian had seen in a club once, reminding him how weak these weapons were against any substantial armor.

Looking at his own rifle, it reminded Varian of a powerful laser pointer. Not something he wanted when the cultists had access to bolter weapons and even plasma pistols…

"Varian Costello!"

Varian quickly unslung his rifle and aimed it outside the trench as a man with armor markings denoting the position of a ranking officer trudged towards him.

THWACK

Varian could feel the force of his commander's dull sword conk him directly over his helmet.

"The cultist forces are over that way, Costello" the officer sternly remarked, pointing his sword over to the where the rest of the guardsmen where firing.

A frown manifested on Varian as he realized he was facing the wrong way when he hastened to pretend he was upholding his duty.

"Thank the Emperor for the fact I'm not too stringent on protocol, Varian," the commander continued, hunkering down

"If it was someone like Yorick commanding the lot of you, he would have executed you for incompetence. No questions asked"

Varian scowled and spat,

"You know, going easier on me would help my heart condition, Lucianus."

Lucianus ducked his head as a superheated globule of plasma sailed over his head and landed ontop of a guardman's head, melting both armor and skin.

Patting Varian lightly, Lucianus ignored Varian's complaint and headed to the rest of the regiment while saying,

"I can't babysit you all day Varian! Hope to see you alive after the charge!"

Varian thought wildly,

_Charge?! Since when was the memo passed around about a charge?!_

"GUARDSMEN!"

Lucianus addressed the entire assemblage,

"TODAY, WE PUSH BACK THE HERETICAL FORCES DESECRATING THIS LAND."

Pointing towards the cultists on the opposite half of the barren wasteland, Varian continued,

"TODAY WE TAKE BACK LORN IV FOR THE EMPEROR."

Everyone in the regiment made the sign of the Aquila as the holy deity's name was mentioned,

"TODAY, WE WILL TRIUMPH!"

Roars of affirmation spread the crowd of weary soldiers.

His frown changing into a nervous look, Varian knew that a charge would follow Lucianus's brief, crude rallying speech.

Nervous not for his life, he knew that the far superior numbers of the regiment would almost certainly overwhelm the cultists as long as the basilisks got into position to start shelling the enemy position. Varian's mind was antsy about the rumors of the chance that they would have to face the dreaded enemies: the Chaos Space Marines of the Black Legion.

Varian had heard of tales relayed between imperial regiment camps about the demonic, corrupt super soldiers of the Imperium. Cast out due to their betrayal of the Emperor of Humanity, the traitors sought a new sort of deity, a deity that would satisfy their inherent blood lust and give them power beyond comprehension.

They had found their answer in the form of the Gods of Chaos. Varian knew that to even whisper their names were grounds for execution.

Khorne, the god of war and martial prowess

Tzeentch, master of sorcery and change

Nurgle, patron of disease and plague

And lastly, Slaanesh, a perverse god that fulfilled every pleasure and unspoken desire.

Remembering Lucianus's brief speech, Varian thought

_These cultists aren't the real forces of chaos, the space marines are…_

A high-pitched scream came from the cultist camp.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Varian looked to the origin of the unnatural screech.

One of the guardsmen pointed to the cultists situated opposite from Varian's position

"Holy Emperor..."

Disregarding the safety of their trench, the cultists were staking themselves on no man's land with metal poles…

One took a sharpened pole and wedged it firmly into the two rocks, and threw himself on the end.

The metal end speared through the cultist's body, blood spraying everywhere coating the rocks with deep red. A bloody smile elicited from his lips as blood poured unabated from the hole in his chest.

A demonic wail issued from several of the cultists,

"Blood for the Blood God!"

Whispers passed back and forth from the ranks,

"What in the Emperor's name are they doing?!"

"Are they insane?"

"Stea-steady, men." Lucianus sought to restore calm from the agitated group of guardsmen. But it was clear that the disturbing scene was taking its toll on a comparatively softhearted commander like Lucianus.

"They are fa-fanatics…"

Varian shook his head, wondering why he even bothered rolling out of his bunk bed…

"Look at the bodies," pointed out an older soldier.

Something unholy was passing, the air was filled with evil, mad energy.

Eldritch, fiery energy engulfed the battlefield. Spilling unto the dead cultists, the warp energy spread. With each suicide, the energies grew in intensity, reaching even to affect the skies.

Varian was no idiot. Unlike most of the brainwashed guardsmen conscripted from worlds, Varian was an avid student of cosmology at his home planet of Pyrimidae. While looked down upon, he was eager to study the universe and humanity's place within the cosmos.

In the ancient forbidden texts of a bygone era, he found references to such mad energy. Speculation pointed that this energy originated from Chaos's home, The Warp.

The Warp was the collective psychic power of all sentient life, and as such it was corrupted by humanity's primal unconsciousness. Immaterial, The Warp was a place where even the most mentally stable of people could not survive.

Varian looked out at the menacing maroon clouds, lightning spearing the sky. Once again, he found himself cursing his luck. Realization dawning on him, he thought,

_It was a fucking ritual, the whole damn thing. Blood to call down this hell._

It was a Warp Storm. A dimensional rift for chaos to rend this world into pieces.

A once blue, benevolent sky was mutated into a sickening red color. Storms prevailed through the atmosphere as Varian witnessed a black portal rip the air.

Only one thing could come out of that abominable hole.

Daemons.


	2. Chapter 2

**Outskirts of Ultima Segmentum- Edge of Milky Way Galaxy **

In all of his travels, Galactus had not come across this relatively new galaxy. His hunger had not been assuaged by the usual fare of planets, and he was looking for new luscious planets filled with biological life to consume.

_Such psychic energy emanating from this shadowy galaxy…_

Analyzing sectors for a choice appetizer to begin, Galactus noticed the enormous dimensional rift obscuring nearly a quarter of the galaxy.

Anticipating a reprieve to his gnawing hunger, Galactus charted a path straight into the crux of the rift. His spherical starship sped towards a veritable banquet of planets and dimensional energies.

A curious planet contaminated with the rift energies came into Galactus's view. Mentally commanding his flagship to slow, Galactus mulled over the choices for his cosmic dietary timetable.

_Quite unique. Biological, thermal, and psychic energies are all contained within this small world. _

Turning towards the warp rifts, Galactus decided on a course of action.

_This will serve as an expedient appetizer before I consume the energies contained within the rift nearby._

**On the surface of Lorn IV**

Cries of help were drowned out by the horrified howls of the guardsmen as they were torn apart by the blood crazed warp entities. Frenzied claws whirred, butchering and cleaving flesh. Demonic hounds ran amok the cold wasteland, their mouths frothing and the blood of the remaining guardsmen on their minds.

The daemons could only be described as terrible aberrations of life. Their vaguely humanoid shapes were tempered with unnatural leather red hide. Ornate golden armor protected them as the laser fire reflected harmlessly off their fiery bodies. Horns jutting out from the sides of their heads and sharpened teeth filed to a point evidenced their origins from the bloody god of war, Khorne.

The berserk daemons gleefully ripped and reaved limbs off the imperial soldiers, mauling them in a blood frenzy.

Amid the bloodbath, Varian retreated to a surviving valkyrie frigate that had brought the regiment to the barren wasteland. The pilot inside had long fainted, slumped over the controls. Hearing a roar of unearthly origin, Varian spared a quick look back and saw a creature appear literally from a nightmare.

A Daemon Prince.

Taller than the daemons, the dark prince wore black power armor, indicating his origins in the chaos space marine cadre. Although his face was mutated with red skin and spiraling horns, Varian recognized the face from the remembrancer accounts of the Horus Heresy: Dharleth, traitorous prince of the black legion.

As Dharleth trudged closed, Varian realized that his armor was actually fused with his maroon skin. There was no separation between the flesh and the ceramite armor.

Dharleth brought his mighty daemon bolter to bear on the carnage. Laughing maniacally, he unloaded his ordnance on daemon and guardsmen alike. The warp cursed bullets caused them to explode in a mystical conflagration.

Roaring his delight at the bits of gore and bone splattering everywhere, Dharleth turned his attention to the sole survivor, Lucianus.

Varian almost gasped in surprise as he saw the bloodied man pull himself from the pool of blood and staggered to face the prince of Khorne, in a defiant gesture.

No words were exchanged as Dharleth beckoned back to the warp rift.

For a moment, it seemed as if the prince would have retreated back to the hell hole that spawned him.

The Daemon Prince drew blood sigils unto the very air, symbols blasphemous to even a cynic such as Varian.

A magnificent obsidian axe blade materialized from the immaterium. Cracks of electricity sizzled along with edges of the weapon as it graced the material realm with its otherworldly design.

As it entered reality, the giant axe head first felt the burdensome weight of gravity. Although it fell under its abysmal heaviness, it fell almost gracefully towards its master.

Dharleth grasped the axe from the air and swung it in a large arc. He decapitated some of his daemon soldiers, getting the feel for the cursed blade's weight.

He turned with a black smile towards the still rebellious Lucianus, his eyes hardening in a stalwart and unemotional gaze.

Dharleth stepped forth, declaring his first sacrifice to Khorne with his mystical axe,

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"

Varian turned away as the black blade cleanly cleaved Lucianus's body in half, disregarding armor, muscle, and bone. Lucianus's face betrayed no fear in his eyes as he accepted his fate.

Lucianus's halved body didn't even touch the ground before it turned into pure blood and fed into the black maw of Dharleth's soul.

Quietly, Varian began sneaking closer to the valkyrie frigate. He could almost touch the inviting, beckoning doors on the frigate's hull when,

_And where do you think you are going, little morsel?_

Varian nearly soiled his pants. Turning around, he saw that Dharleth was looking straight at him. His eyes shone with murderous light.

The Daemon Prince chuckled darkly to himself as he slowly approached the tiny soldier. His axe hand twitched with eager anticipation of another bloody sacrifice to his dark …

Suddenly, a pressure change exerted immeasurable strain on the atmosphere. It felt as if the atmosphere was literally _on fire_.

Dharleth turned his maw toward the fire red sky. Growling, he felt the intense heat singe even his hardened skin.

He sensed a power that made him seem like an ant compared to the sun. A power that contained within it, the birth of the cosmos, the explosion of a billion, billion stars.

The heat seemed to radiate from one point in the fire red sky. Squinting, Dharleth perceived a royal crown of purple, with eyes heralding the end of galaxies. He witnessed a God emerge.

* * *

Galactus surveyed the battle stricken plains of Lorn IV, calculating the amount of time it would take to finish feeding here and continue on to his next banquet. He gave no thought to the scurrying microbes at his feet.

As he descended unto to barren plains, the rock ground beneath seemed to liquefy into mercurial lava.

Amidst all the carnage and violence of the ongoing battle, the cosmic being was at peace.

* * *

All around Dharleth, his daemon soldiers were beginning to melt along with the ground. Their warp-spawned bodies were unable to resist the ethereal energies that bathed them. Golden armor started to liquefy, muscle and skin started to slough off of bone.

Dharleth roared at the incomprehensible being that seemed to dwarf even his dark masters. Barely surviving the rolling heat waves, he feebly summoned enough warp energy to initiate a mass teleportation feat. Blood…he needed more blood to complete the ritual…

Varian was glad he hadn't crapped his pants yet. Between the bloodthirsty demons howling for his blood to the alien presence he felt crushing both mind and body, it was a miracle that he had not lost control of his bowels.

It seemed that the daemons had no idea what was going on either. The heat he was experiencing felt like a radioactive mini nuke had gone off on the battlefield. The first wave washed over Varian's entire body, threatening to disintegrate his flesh.

Weirdly, Varian heard began hearing a pained whisper in the back of his head. Looking around, no man or daemon was near enough or alive enough to have whispered anything in his ears. The voice began growing louder, angrier. Even though his body was experiencing unbelievable pain, Varian zeroed in on what the voices were saying,

_Damn this INFERNAL teleportation ritual! They wasted too much blood summoning those bloodletters on the field! I'll enjoy sucking the succulent SOULS out of those SCREAMING cultists for their idiocy! _

In the deluge of furious rants, Varian suddenly realized they were coming from the Daemon Prince. Varian thought,

_But… that's not possible. He isn't talking at all. In fact, the skin on his mouth is turning into putty in this heat._

But if Dharleth wasn't speaking, then what was this sudden dialogue in Varian's head? He first thought that he was going insane, but there was certain clarity in hearing Dharleth.

His thoughts were cut short as a big purple hand ensnared him…

* * *

Galactus had not thought about how his void of a hunger affected the planet. His slight salivation at his meal manifested itself into a death ball of fire and heat that nearly cleansed the planet's surface of life.

He was just about to dive into the core of the planet to sate his appetite when he sensed a small psychic presence flicker near him.

Galactus was given enough pause to consider the small microbial psychic, the same way a passing human might regard a large bug. It must have, by blind chance, uncovered its latent telepathy resulting from the radioactive heat.

The pause was enough time for Galactus to consider a topic that he had not considered for quite some time: a herald. He was tired of continuously roving the endless cosmos for appropriate planets to consume. He expended needless amounts of energy analyzing planets for high thermal and biological energy, or stars with enough heat and mass to replace the biological energy of planetary life forms.

He needed someone to do this endless task. Someone with scrupulous attitude and a cynical eye.

There were only two remaining sentients that were alive…

* * *

Dharleth needed to warn them of the incredible threat that exuded such massive foreign energies. He needed to warn the gods of Chaos.

Draining the freshly dead guardsman of all blood, he finally accumulated enough for the teleportation. Laughing, he turned towards the cosmic being to taunt it… only to find that the entity wasn't there.

Looking upwards, Dharleth realized that the sky was no longer blood red with the infectious warp storm.

He grew pale as he knew that the teleportation would not work without the warp storm at his disposal. The blood he had gathered would just be that, ordinary blood.

A massive purple hand reached down on Dharleth. He tried to command his legs to move, but found that he had lost all motor control. He could feel the fingers close on his body, his armor broke in a way reminiscent of small toy breaking in the hands of a merciless child.

Galactus scrutinized the Daemon Prince in multiple ways: personality, physiology, and ability. He could feel the rift energies inside this daemon….and it enticed his appetite. His abilities were…..unsuitable for the role of a herald. This small ratty creature had a penchant for destruction and murder, not the characteristics he was looking. With an air of disregard, Galactus proceeded to devour the unfortunate daemon…

* * *

Dharleth sensed that his end was near. Cosmic energies wrapped around his tiny form, absorbing his essence and energies. With a primal scream of fury, Dharleth cursed the dark gods for abandoning him as he felt himself disintegrate in the cosmic conflagration.

* * *

The daemon he devoured did not satisfy his gnawing hunger in the least. The morsel only served to temporarily whet his appetite for the planet he was on. Not forgetting the other sentient, Galactus picked up the psionic entity.

Sensing a great potential within the mite, Galactus began to analyze his captive.


End file.
